Maybe Not
by Toejones
Summary: Pickles and Tony are out for a drive when something goes wary. They seem to be caught in a never-ending fight. SNBPickles X Antonio  Tony  DiMarco.


The bright lights of LA whizzed by at what seemed like lightning speed. The different colors of the neon signs disappeared behind as soon as they came into view. The rev of the old 1968 AMX was loud in their ears, almost deafening coupled with the Poison tape blaring out of their stereo. A red light whizzed past the window and finally the passenger reached over to shut up Bret Michaels.

"Dude, maybe you aughtta slow down or something" he leaned back into the seat, shoving the unused seatbelt out of his way. The driver rolled his eyes.

"Dude, T, I know what ahm doin', okey?" he turned a corner sharply, sending Tony flying into him, spinning the car in a crazy pattern of circles. As the car slowed to a stop the boys looked at each other, their already crazy hair flipped into chaos.

"Holy shit, Red. Don't do that again" Tony laughed, even though his face was as white as a sheet and he was gripping the car-seat like a lifeline.

"I… I dunno if I cen stahp myself" Pickles giggled nervously, still gripping the wheel "But I cen only try, reight?" he righted the car to follow the road again and hit the gas, though a little less than earlier, ignoring the cars honking all around them. They were barely at 70 when Pickles decided to actually stop at a red light. The braking was instantaneous and hard. Tony shot forward for the second time that night, bruising his ribs on the dashboard.

"Mmm Pickles" he winced, glaring over at his driving buddy.

"Sahrry" Pickles was also pressed to the front end of the car, holding his stomach. They silently agreed it was time to stop driving like pissed off, drunk, teenagers (which they were- but the point still rests) and Pickles pressed the gas down slowly, only speeding twenty miles an hour over the speed-limit now.

"Hey, Red. Stop up here at this light, I need a hit and I can't do that with you flyin like ya are". Pickles did as he was told, slowing to a stop at the next light, not almost killing anyone this time. The drugs were taken out of the glove compartment and spread out. Pickles rolled his eyes and looked away, not wanting to witness it again. Pickles only looked over when he heard the glove compartment snap shut.

"Done?" he asked coldly. Tony shrugged him off and nodded, gesturing for Pickles to continue on down the road.

"So where do ya wanna go? We got all of LA ta explore" Tony leaned back happily, his eyes already glazing over.

"I don' care where we go as lahng as ya aint doin heroin on da weay dere" Pickles narrowed his eyes, trying to focus on the road. Tony rubbed his forehead.

"We've had this conversation, what, seventy times this week? Just what is so different about my heroin than your coke?"

"I don' make it a habit" Pickles replied curtly, being sure to turn so that Tony was thrown against the car door "Yer addicted". Tony had no reply for this and folded his arms. They drove on silently for a long amount of time before Tony finally spoke.

"Sorry Red" he muttered "Pull over so we can make up?" he sent a sly grin across the car. Pickles couldn't help but match it.

"'N how exactly do ya plean ta make it up ta me, T?" he turned into an abandoned parking lot and shut the engine off.

"Well I dunno yet" Tony shrugged "Why don't ya get in the backseat so we can think about this" he smirked.

"What a fantastic idea" Pickles wormed his way back, settling on the left side. He watched as Tony did the same, his heavily madeup eyes half-lidded.

"So what d'ya think, Red" Tony leaned over to invade Pickles' side. Pickles shrugged and moved to allow it.

"I can' think a anythin'" he was on the verge of laughing as Tony started taking off his shirt.

"And I thought you were a smart guy" Tony chuckled, tossing his shirt into the front seat.

"Maybe ya aughtta teach me somehtin'" Pickles copied Tony, the worn down tank top soon joining its friend in the front "'cause my brain jus' don' seem ta be workin' tahnaight"

"Alright, lesson one" Tony leaned all the way back and started kicking off his pants right over his torn up Chucks.

"Mmm I'm likin' dis" Pickles muttered. Tony kissed him hard, knocking them both back to Pickles' side. Pickles struggled to get off his ridiculous red cowboy boots at the same time, twisting into an awkward position.

"Off they go" Tony broke apart; tugging at the tights Pickles was wearing.

"Dis doesn't seem very educational" Pickles scolded, adjusting to wiggle out of them.

"Shut up, Red" Tony finally had their entire outer layer of clothes in the front of the car.

"Hey-ow!" Pickles winced, feeling a poke in his back. Tony ignored him. "Seriously- ow! T, stahp, stahp!" Pickles pushed him off, the pain getting worse. Tony sat back on his feet, scanning for the problem.

"Hey, Red, what's that?" Tony gently touched Pickles' left side, his fingers coming back with a few drops of red. Pickles paled, hoping whatever happened wasn't serious. He lifted himself up shakily into a sitting position and held his hand to his side.

"Fuck" his voice cracked, as his fingers came back red too "T, what's goin on back dere?" he turned to look and a syringe was lying in the seat next to him. His face turned beet red. "Really? Really, Tony?" he shouted, gesturing violently.

"Ah, shit, Pickles" Tony held up his hands defensively "That isn't supposed ta be there"

"I did naht get in da cahar ta be stabbed by yer fuckin' gear!" he turned hastily to get his clothes.

"Jeez, Red, I'm sorry!" Tony rubbed his forehead "Someone else must have left it back here after the gig yesterday"

"OH, so now I'm gonna get some fuckin' disease from one a yer stupid friends, huh?" he pulled his shirt on fiercely, reaching for his pants before it was all the way on. Tony reached over to get his boots before he could, hoping to stall the tantrum that was sure to happen. "FUCK AHFF" Pickles snatched his boots and tugged them on. He reached for the door handle, but Tony stopped his hand.

"At least let me drive ya home and patch ya up" his eyes bore deep into Pickles', practically bleeding apology.

"Fuck, fuck , FUCK. FAIHNE" Pickles crossed his arms, refusing to move out of the backseat.

"Try not ta be too mad at me, babe" Tony slid his pants back on and moved into the driver's seat.

"I'll be as fuckin' mad as I please" Pickles hissed "And I better naht get fuckin' addicted ta dat shit"

"You won't, don't worry" Tony muttered, turning the keys.

"I'll fuckin' worry if I wah-" Pickles started to rise in volume until Tony cut him off.

"Just stop" he shook his head "I said I was sorry, what more do you want?"

"I want fer you ta stahp bein' such a damn cahck" Pickles had settled into the pouting phase of being pissed at Tony now. Although it was quieter- it was harder to deal with.

"Fine, sit there and sulk. I'll just go fuck some groupie or something instead if you're gonna to be like that" Tony grumbled.

"Maybe ya should" Pickles shot back "An' I'll go n' fahind some groupies too" he stared out the window dejectedly, knowing full-well that that exact thing would happen by tomorrow night if they didn't make up… again. He felt a tear go down his cheek and hoped Tony had seen it before swiping it away furiously. The rest of the ride back to their dingy apartment was silent, save for the dull roar of the engine, and the Poison tape that had come back on.

The car doors both opened and slammed shut. They still weren't speaking as Tony led Pickles into the bathroom, ignoring the questioning looks Sammy and Bullets shot them in passing. He shut and locked the door.

"Take it off" he muttered, fishing in the medicine cabinet for some gauze and tape. Pickles stripped off his shirt, carefully avoiding the leaky puncture wound.

"Dat did a number ahn me, huh?" he muttered, tenderly probing at it with his finger.

"Yeah, sorry again, babe" Tony sighed, unraveling some gauze and cutting it off. He lovingly fixed it over the wound and fastened it down with some tape. Pickles sighed and leaned against the wall when all was done.

"Tony why'da we fight all da taihme?" he asked. Tony shrugged in response, sitting on the counter. "It ain't much fun ya know" Pickles wandered over and leaned into him, silently asking for forgiveness and an apology. Tony held him close in response, granting both.

"Guess I just love to see you cry, Red" he kissed his head sweetly.

A/N: Luh-luh-loved writing this  
Tony and Pickles are, like, my OTP.

This fic is based off a series of sketches I did on deviantArt and the song "Fer Sure" by the Medic Droid.


End file.
